


Shattered Stone

by FastestKeyboardTyperInTheWest



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: 70's Punk/Rock band au, Drug Use, M/M, Sex drugs and rock n roll
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:34:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FastestKeyboardTyperInTheWest/pseuds/FastestKeyboardTyperInTheWest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'The Revolution is coming' it says, in bright ballistic colours. Enjolras takes a smoke briefly, grins up at it, and rests his spray can against his knee. Life, he thinks, is good.</p><p>A 70's Punk AU about Revolution, it's members, life, death and love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered Stone

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by 'Naked' by Kevin Brooks.

Most of them (all of them) take speed. Some cannabis, some heroin, and often joints. Cigarette smoke is breathed like air here, and Courfeyrac's voice is so gravely from it all that he can barely speak. The small warehouse they practice in, Musain, is so broken, dirty, and old that the smoke can't do anymore damage than has already been done, and that's how it should be.

 

On days like this one, when most of them are drunk and the tour bus rickets and rumbles around them, Enjolras wonders why he ever made a band and why that band had to be into punk. A cigarette stub cools beside him, partly submerged in something which might be vodka, and he draws it out in cold disgust. Man, he thinks, and smokes heavily on a think fag, I live with a bunch of fucking pigs.

 

Enjolras is all about the music and the politics: anyone could tell you that. Hell, watch a performance and you could see it in his eyes, his jerky movements, his angry screams and heavy strumming. Mock his music or the people he cares about and he'll fuck you up. That's no bad thing: it's kept them all out of trouble many times. Punk's an easy target for anyone to hit on but they've never held the brunt of it. That's thanks to Marius, their manager, and Eponine, their bouncer of sorts, who can and will charm, steal from and smash whoever she feels like.

 

The band starts out in 1968, with Enjolras on vocals and main guitar and Combeferre providing back up, and back then you wouldn't have seen anything special because there was nothing special. They could both play, and Enjolras could sing like he was born doing it, but their repertoire consists of covers and their voices singing nondescript notes. So, more or less, they were completely crap.

 

The name Revolution springs up in 1973, when Enjolras is nineteen and angry. Really angry, because Lamarque, his uncle, has been murdered and there's no way of bringing the killer to justice because he's exempt. Because it is a disease. And he fucking hates that. He's going to university, he tells himself, and when he's at uni, he's going to campaign and get his life back on fucking track. It's going to be a revolution. Once he's told Combeferre, the other man tells him that Revolution is a great band name. Yeah, Enjolras thinks, it's fucking great.

 

The band is fully assembled in '75 and they play their first gig not long after. Courfeyrac and Jehan are the standouts at this gig and theirs remains the biggest fanbase, for no foreseeable reason. The others are fine, too, but it's not until gig 9 that they become a breakout act. Enjolras jumps and screams and twangs strings and anger anger anger and he sings 'DYHTPS', a song with only those words repeated over and over to varying melodies. He's amazing and takes the world by storm. Gig 10 is the one where they become quiet icons, though, with graffiti in London Paddington. 'The Revolution is coming' it says, in bright ballistic colours. Enjolras takes a smoke briefly, grins up at it, and rests his spray can against his knee. Life, he thinks, is good.

 

 

They lose their bass, Bahorel, in the early summer of '76, just as punk is properly taking off and their music is becoming extremely popular, with it's winding melodies and expansive singer. He's struck down with flu and moves to Glasgow, for no reason whatsoever. He wasn't a very good bass player, to be honest, and Enjolras never particularly liked him, so it's no big loss. They begin to hold auditions on the Sunday of that week, and Enjolras swears he's never been more bored. The auditions are long and tedious, a mixture of awful guitarists and worse singers. He comes near to taking cannabis and speed just to stay awake and Marius lightly snores beside him. The future does not look bright. And just when they were making it big.

 

Grantaire walks in and Enjolras _knows_. From the pointedness of his face, to the matted curly hair pressed down on his head and the head-to-toe leather outfit, he couldn't be anything but their new guitarist. It's a handmade guitar, with a leather strap most likely torn from an old jacket. He smells of cheap alcohol and cheap cigarettes and sex and a lot of drugs and he looks like the sort of person who Enjolras hates and always refrains from talking to. He's something special. He doesn't say a word, but he plays. He needs no music, no words, and Enjolras learns that he studied a scratchy recording a friend had done for him for it, but he doesn't know that now and this is incredible. When he finishes, there is silent. Even Marius is awake, and Courfeyrac has paused from smoking and fondling Jehan to watch. It's incredible, he's incredible and the atmosphere is incredible. Enjolras lights a joint and smiles.

 

'Welcome to the band.'


End file.
